The commentator of The Fair City of Udaipur invites the viewer to witness the ‘India of your dreams’. Two presumptions are made regarding the image of India that the spectator has in their minds. The first is of a city of exotic architecture: we witness the ‘elaborately carved’ Temple of Juggernaut; the ‘cool beauty’ of Lake Pichola; and the glory of the Summer Palace, which ‘gleams like a jewel on the bosom of the lake’. The second presumed image is of a land of impoverished locals. The Maharana of Udaipur approved this film, and it climaxes by stating that ‘the descendent of the sun god could find no fairer dwelling place under the sun’; however, at no point is the Prince present in the picture. Instead, we get to see a city that is occupied by street traders, beggars, and ‘a race of aborigines’.

The film portrays these two elements in contrasting manners. The commentary is effusive about the architectural beauty of the city. Correspondingly, the cameraman adopts positions that help to portray the buildings in their full majesty. They are sometimes shot from below looking upwards, or they are carefully framed by filming through elaborately carved windows or archways. In contrast, he commonly films the locals from eye level, or even looks down on them. The contrast between the impoverished locals and these splendid buildings is underlined in the commentary. We are informed that the temple was not made by those who are now present, but by  ‘craftsmen of long ago’. Udaipur is represented as a city of contrasts - ‘rich and poor, humble and mighty’ – the riches are represented by buildings and the poverty by the people.

The locals are also pictured among their own ‘tangled streets’ where they undertake their ‘cottage-door industries’. Here the commentary occasionally becomes condescending, most notably in its treatment of a money-lender who is shown performing his business in the open air. Ironic references are made to his ‘imposing premises’, his ‘strong-room’ and his ‘big deal[s]’. The commentator is less mirthful in his treatment of the Bhils. Several women of the tribe are pictured bringing crops to market. The camerawork and the commentary pay attention to their clothing and jewellery, and the viewer is informed that ‘the many anklets worn by this woman are not a sign of vanity, but of safety first – they protect her against snake bite while working in the fields’. There is no information, however, about the Bhil people’s social status or about the recent protests in which they had been involved.

The film is more interested in providing us with the images of Udaipur than it is in providing any background history. There is some information regarding the fighting traditions of the Mewar people and about the Maharana’s status among adherents of the Hindu faith, but this is far as it goes. The information about the Maharana is immediately followed by the main emphasis of the film: ‘no city could be more lovely’. It should be admitted, however, that this loveliness is portrayed effectively. The camerawork is sophisticated and the film is well edited and structured. The film closes with a scene that neatly echoes its beginning; and the Bhils can be witnessed in a street scene which prefigures the focus upon the women later on in the documentary. The filmmakers could be criticised for their over-employment of screen wipes and dissolves, which now appear dated. The music on the soundtrack has also aged poorly: Robin Baker argues that it ‘grates slightly with its multi-purpose somewhere-east-of-Suez orientalism’ (Baker). It does however effectively punctuate each scene.

The film first states of Udaipur that ‘little is heard of it in the outside world’; however, this meditation upon the charms of the city foreshadows Udaipur’s later manifestation as a tourist’s dream.

Richard Osborne (August 2009)